


Sam VS the Douche

by IarnaStrom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cussing, Drinking, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 07:31:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6508639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IarnaStrom/pseuds/IarnaStrom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taken from an SPN Imagine, this a one shot in which Sam acts as the reader's bodyguard when they are aggressively hit on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sam VS the Douche

All you wanted to do was relax and unwind after a rough day at work.  Was that really too much to ask?  Normally when you went to the bar down the street from your apartment, no one batted an eyelash.  It wasn’t that you weren’t attractive, you’d had a few relationships in the past, but everyone there seemed to catch the vibe that you weren’t there to find a date.  Everyone, that was, except for Douchey McGee.  He was obviously one of those hotshots that were used to getting their way.  He’d sauntered up to your perch at the bar and offered to buy you a drink.

“No thanks,” you’d said politely.  “I’ve got my beer.  I’m good.”

“Oh, come on,” he’d said with a mock pout, trying to look cute under ten pounds of hair gel and enough Axe body spray to crop dust a field.  “I promise I won’t bite.”

You chuckled in spite of yourself but repeated that you’re good.  You had another long day at the office ahead of you in the morning and weren’t interested in a hookup.  One look at Douchey’s face, though, and you knew you were in for it.  His eyes flashed at the denial like he’d been challenged to a duel.  You should have just left then, but you refused to be run out of your favorite hole in the wall by some prick in a pink polo shirt.  The crack of pool balls brought your head around.  The bouncer by the door sometimes played the game with you when you didn’t want to be messed with, and part of you hoped that was his subtle way of coming to your rescue.  But it wasn’t Ross with his big bushy beard and eyebrows full of steel.  It was two guys, one cute and on the average to tall side, wearing an open button-down over a plain t-shirt and jeans.  The other was a giant wearing a flannel shirt with much longer hair fanning out just above his shoulders with a slight curl.  You still weren’t looking for a one-night-stand, but when the giant’s blue-green eyes found yours across the room, you felt your cheeks warming.  You looked away quickly when he gave you a little smile, making deep dimples pop in his cheeks.  He was adorable and rugged all at once, it was seriously unfair.  You must have been blushing more than you realize, or maybe biting your lip didn’t hide your smile the way you thought because Douchey McGee was seriously offended by your interest in the giant over him.

“What are you into rednecks and trailer trash or something?” he asked, making you frown.  “I thought you had class.”

“Excuse me?” you asked through your teeth.

“Come on, baby,” he started to croon, “why chase a lumberjack when you can have a real man.”

“You’re wearing pink, dude,” you point out, perking an eyebrow at him. 

You caught yourself engaging in his game and rolled your eyes, hopping down from your stool.  You weren’t sure if it was out of habit or curiosity, but your feet immediately took you towards the pool table.  Ross raised one heavily pierced eyebrow at you and you lifted your beer in a silent “I’m OK.”  He crossed his arms over his barrel chest and settled his back against the door, but his eyes never stopped moving around the bar.  The giant smiled as you approached and the other man did, too.

“Hey there, cutie,” the shorter man said as he came towards you.  “You want to play?”

“Maybe next game,” you said with a shrug.  “If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” he said with a grin and then looked at the giant.  “Do you?”

He didn’t say anything at first, instead, he gave you a lopsided smile that made your stomach flutter and shook his head.

“Cool,” you said with a smirk at him.  “I’ve got winner.  I’m Y/N, by the way,” you added and held out your hand for the shorter man to shake.

“Dean,” he said, giving you a nod of appreciation for your firm handshake.  “That’s my little brother, Sam,” he added gesturing at the giant.

“Little?” you asked with a chuckle as Sam came over to shake your hand.  He grinned at you back and laughed a bit.

“How about younger?” he asked.

“Fair enough,” you said with a smile as his grip on your hand lingered.  You let go reluctantly and sat down on a nearby stool to watch as they played, bantering back and forth the whole time.

You had finally started to relax a bit around the brothers, joining in with a few pot-shots here and there until both brothers were laughing with you.  You took turns playing winner with them, and when it was you VS Sam, he grinned up at you from where he was racking the balls and declared loser buys the next round of beers.  You winked at him and told him the brand you liked, adding that it was so he’d know what to get you when he lost.  Dean chuckled and told his brother to watch out for you.  As you played, you kept one eye out for Douchey McGee.  He was fuming at your rejection, shooting visual daggers at the brothers when their backs were turned.  When you sank the eight-ball on your last turn, Dean clapped a hand on your shoulder and beamed.

“Nicely done, Y/N,” he smiled.  “Beers are on Sam.”

Sam came over, giving you a good-natured glare.

“I let you win,” he said as he took your empty from the table against the wall.

“Uh huh,” you said and winked at him again, making him smile.

“I’ll be right back,” he said and headed for the bar as Dean leaned his shoulder into yours.

“Aww, I think he likes you,” Dean said with a smirk.

“Juvenile,” you said with a chuckle and he just grinned.

“I think it’s time for me to break the seal,” he said with a mischievous smirk.  “It might take a while.  But I’m sure you two will be alone.”

Before you could do anything more than swat his shoulder lightly, he ducked away and headed for the bathroom.  You hadn’t realized how safe the two of them made you feel until you were left alone by the pool table.  And, of course, Douchey McGee took the chance to try and nurse the forming bruise to his ego.  He swooped in so quickly, he made you jump when he spoke and you back away a step to put some distance between you.

“You know, I’m not used to being rejected,” he said, trying to close the distance between you until your legs hit the pool table and you knew you were trapped.  “I don’t like how it feels.”

“Get used to it, pal,” you said as you moved your hand behind you.  “I told you no and I meant it.”

“You see, I’ve never taken no for an answer when I see something I want,” he said just loud enough for you to hear him without raising his voice.  “And I want you.”

Your hand found the cue ball and gripped it tightly, ready to use it if he touched you.  You may have had a desk job, but you could defend yourself if you needed to.  Your muscles tensed as he leaned in closer and you waited until he was within range.  You were about to swing the cue ball forward when a deep, rumbling voice washed over you, breaking Douchey’s focus on your lips.

“Hey, buddy, give it a rest,” Sam said, coming to loom over him.  He suddenly seemed bigger than he had been, making you feel tiny by comparison.

“Who the hell asked you to interrupt?” Douchey snapped, leaning up to try and get in his face.

Sam’s blue-green eyes hardened into gemstones as he stared back at the prick, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he ground his teeth.  His silent menace started to filter through Douchey’s testosterone fog and the ass-clown in pink started to back down.  He skulked away and out the front door in a huff, and as soon as it swung shut you sagged in relief.

“Thanks,” you told Sam as he looped his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side.  He was still staring at where Douchey disappeared with his eyes narrowed.  “Hey, big guy.  He’s gone.  You can relax.”

Your words seemed to break the spell of Sam’s protective focus and he looked down at you, his eyes softening.

“You OK?” he asked, rubbing your arm soothingly.

“Yeah,” you said with a smile.  “I’m fine.”


End file.
